


Pick Up Off The Floor

by AgentBuzzkill



Series: Fic Requests [3]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Death, Mentions of yorkalina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2272449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentBuzzkill/pseuds/AgentBuzzkill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He stands in front of her—the closest thing he can get to standing, anyway, hovering an inch or two above the hardwood floors, the dim blue glow of his body casting shadows around the room—and watches her fight back tears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pick Up Off The Floor

**Author's Note:**

> I was prompted by my Caboose!Anon on Tumblr with a number from an AU ask meme. I was really proud of how it turned out so I figured I'd put in on AO3. Let me know what you think of it!
> 
> This is #41: ghost/living person au with Carolina and Epsilon the Ghost

Epsilon knows it’s not unusual for Carolina to come home late. She’s only explained where she goes a few times, and each explanation gets less and less detailed.

"My dad’s in the hospital. He’s sick," she says, staring into her coffee when he asks her what’s wrong on a cold February morning.

"He’s not doing well," she grunts when he questions her one afternoon in March.

"He’s dying," is all she can choke out on a late April night, leaning against the door and fighting back tears. 

He stands in front of her—the closest thing he can get to standing, anyway, hovering an inch or two above the hardwood floors, the dim blue glow of his body casting shadows around the room—and watches her fight back tears.

"I shouldn't be crying," she croaks out, red hair falling over her face as she wipes angrily at her eyes. "He was a piece of shit. After mom died, he checked out completely."

"Carolina-" he starts, but she snaps her head up and stands abruptly.

"I had to raise myself, goddammit!" She screams, and he can’t find it in himself to tell her to quiet down. She’s been needing a good breakdown for a few months now. "Mom left and he shut himself away, too obsessed with his fucking work to give a flying fuck about me!” She lashes out, kicking at the small table by the door, and the ceramic lamp on it falls to the ground and shatters. 

"When I taught myself to ride a bike, he wasn’t there. When I joined the basketball team, he wasn’t there. When I graduated from junior high, he wasn’t there! When I got the lead in that stupid school play, he wasn’t there! When I graduated from high school, he wasn’t there! When I graduated from college he still wasn’t fucking there! I hate him!”

As she yells she gets louder, until her back hits the door and she sinks back down to the floor. She chokes back a sob and Epsilon wishes he could reach out and touch her, wrap her in his arms and calm her down. But she has to face this herself, he knows that.

"You, you told me once," she says, and her voice shakes as she tries to get a grip on herself, "that you don’t remember what it was like to die."

He shakes his head, but she isn’t looking at him. So he answers:

"Just crossing the street, blinked, and I was back here and glowing blue."

She barks out a humorless laugh. “Still can’t believe I bought a haunted apartment. York would’ve gotten a kick out of that.” She wipes at her eyes again, having calmed down a bit. She asks, “can you see other people who’ve died? Can you talk with them?”

He shrugs. “Never really tried, to be honest. Haven’t had the overwhelming need to. If I crossed over to where the rest of them are, I might not come back.”

She nods. “S’pose that’s for the best. It’d get lonely here without you.”

He smiles and she returns it. 

"It’s okay to be sad about him," Epsilon says, and Carolina’s eyes return to the floor.

"It doesn’t feel okay," she mutters. "I wish it didn’t feel like anything."

Epsilon drifts closer to her, sitting in front of her, hovering with his legs crossed under him.

"You lived without him for so long, but you shouldn’t have had to. It’s okay to be mad at him. But you'll get through this."

"You seem awfully sure of my ability to just pick myself up and move on."

"I’ve watched you do it before."

She meets his eyes. They tried not to talk about those months, those months after…

"When York died you were a wreck," Epsilon says quietly, and Carolina’s face betrays no emotion. "I saw you during that and I honestly thought you wouldn’t come back from that. You scared me, Carolina."

She blinks, and he sees in her eyes just how tired she is.

"But you can come back from this," he continues. "You already are. You’ll sit through his last days and you’ll put him in the ground and life will go on. You don’t need him, you never have."

She nods, and he thinks that she might finally be starting to believe him.


End file.
